Mistrust
by emerald-hopes
Summary: Arial Orthon is hiding a deadly secret, but no one knows that, not even Dumbledore when he allows her to come to Hogwarts in her sixth year. Everyone is immediately taken by Arial. . . Everyone but the person who knows her true being, that is.
1. The Princeton Family

TITLE: "Mistrust"  
  
AUTHOR: emerald-hopes  
  
RATING: R for dug content, language, violence, and sexual references.  
  
SUMMARY: Arial Orthon is hiding a deadly secret, but no one knows that, not even Dumbledore when he allows her to come to Hogwarts in her sixth year. Everyone is immediately taken by Arial. . . Everyone but the person who knows her true being, that is.  
  
DISCLAIMER: I own nothing here except my own characters, and I think you'll be able to figure out who they are. Everything else belongs to J.K. Rowling.  
  
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Harry Potter rolled his eyes and suppressed a jaw-cracking yawn for what felt like the millionth time that day. The white curtains billowed about in the summer evening breeze, catching Harry around the leg. As he disentangled himself he watched the scene going on in the front yard across the street from number four, Privit Drive.  
  
His aunt Petunia, a thin, bony woman with teeth like a horse, blew her nose in a lace handkerchief for the tenth time as she said goodbye to her dearest friend Mrs. Rose Princeton. Aunt Petunia had spent long hours with Mrs. Princeton gossiping about the neighbors and the other women who attended the country club's weekly afternoon tea. Harry knew his aunt would miss her friend dearly and would probably take it out on him more than anyone else, as usual.  
  
Two moving men emerged from the Princeton's gigantic house just then, carrying a royal blue velvet couch between them and loading it onto the second of the two moving vans parked outside the house. Mr. Joe Princeton followed the movers, smoking a pipe and yelling instructions to three more movers coming out of the first truck. Harry's Uncle Vernon appeared behind Mr. Princeton and the two of them walked out onto the lawn. Uncle Vernon was a big man with a short neck, large mustache, and a rather purple face. He and Mr. Princeton went golfing at the country club every Saturday morning and Harry was sure that the loss of his uncle's golfing partner was sure to bring on more and more rows from Uncle Vernon this summer.  
  
"Not like the Dursleys care," he muttered, kicking the wall in frustration. His sneaker left a short gray scuff mark on the perfectly painted blue wall, but Harry didn't care. He was sure to be leaving Privit drive soon enough, wasn't he? After all, they had all promised to come to his rescue as soon as possible, probably right after the O.W.L. results came in the mail, and that should be any day now. . .  
  
A third pair of people made it's way down Privit drive along the sidewalk, past the perfectly manicured lawns and came to a halt at the Princeton's home. The two boys were Harry's age, though they did not look like Harry, who was thin and had wild black hair and emerald green eyes. Instead, these boys were heavyset and had a rough appearance. One of them, Harry's cousin Dudley, had brown hair and brown eyes, and the other boy, Dudley's friend Mark Princeton, had sandy blonde hair and blue eyes like his father.  
  
"Oh, Dudley will miss Mark so much; he can't stop talking about how horrible it is that you have to move," Harry could imagine Aunt Petunia say. Little did any of the parents know, however, that the reason Dudley would miss Mark was because he supplied Dudley almost daily with cigarettes and once in a while found him a poor girl who was so desperate she would do anything - literally - to get money. If the Dursleys knew their beloved son had been with prostitutes only a little older than himself. . . Well, Harry wasn't quite sure what they'd do, but he was positive they wouldn't be too happy.  
  
Three months ago, while Harry had been at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry fighting for the lives of those around him, the worst bit of news the Dursleys had received was that the Princetons would be moving on the eighth of July to Scotland due to Mr. Princeton's job promotion. To the Dursleys, who had no sense of proportion in the real world, Scotland was a million miles away from Little Whinging. Harry could only hope that a better family would be moving into the Princeton's house; they were due to arrive the next morning.  
  
At last, the Dursleys and Princetons said their final teary good-byes. The Princeton family got into their car and drove off down the street, the moving vans close behind. Harry quickly turned away from the window, not wanting to be seen by the Dursleys. His aunt and uncle had sent him to bed at five o'clock to avoid having to explain him to the Princetons as the said farewell.  
  
"Oh well," Harry said aloud, "tomorrow can't be any worse, right?" 


	2. Hooting and Tapping

Hoot. TAP.  
  
Hoot. TAP.  
  
Harry's eyes fluttered open the next morning to a series of odd sounds coming from outside his window. Curious, he threw off his blue sheets and walked over to the only window in the room to see what was going on. He grinned when he saw the snowy white owl outside his window, hooting and tapping the window with her beak. Harry hurriedly opened the window to let his owl Hedwig inside.  
  
"Hey there girl," Harry said, as Hedwig glided gracefully into the room and landed on his shoulder. "How are things with Ron?"  
  
Hedwig stuck out her leg to reveal not one, but two letters. Harry opened the one with Ron Weasley's handwriting first, tossing the other letter onto his desk. Hedwig lefty his shoulder and flew over to her cage, where she proceeded to finish off a dead mouse she had caught a few days earlier.  
  
Harry eagerly read Ron's letter:  
  
Harry-  
  
At the Burrow. Things are fine here, although Mum's livid about Fred and George taking off before school let out.  
  
A bit of news: Hermione wishes for us to visit her and her parents in London! Mum said I could go; Hermione will send word to you with the details.  
  
Hope you did well on your O.W.L.s!  
  
-Ron  
  
Harry's grin widened as he set Ron's letter aside. Going to visit Hermione could be a real adventure for Ron, as the elder Grangers were Muggles, and Ron had never lived in a Muggle home before. The one time he has attempted the call Harry at the Dursley's using a real telephone he had nearly made Uncle Vernon deaf and almost got Harry killed, in a sense.  
  
Harry had been thinking and had been quiet while doing so, and now he realized that he heard none of the usual morning sounds of the Dursley household. Dudley wasn't complaining about his low-fat breakfast, Uncle Vernon wasn't grumbling about taxes being raised, and Aunt Petunia couldn't be heard pacing in front of the mail slot waiting for her tabloids to arrive with the rest of the morning post. The lack of commotion seemed odd to Harry and he checked the digital clock on his nightstand to make sure he wasn't a lunatic for being up in the wee hours of the morning. But he wasn't, for the glowing red number told him it was already half past nine, and in the summer the Dursleys were usual up at nine or so, with the exception of Dudley if he had had too much. . . excitement the previous night. Harry also had not been screamed at to get out of bed and make breakfast, which was a typical summer morning tradition now at the Dursley household. Wondering what was going on, Harry quickly got dressed and went downstairs.  
  
When he reached the living room he glanced out the window and saw the Dursleys across the street talking to three people who Harry assumed to be their new neighbors. He knew that was the reason why he had not been woken up - the Dursleys preferred to either keep Harry a complete secret from the neighbors or tell everyone he was a criminal and should be avoided at all costs. There was no doubt in Harry's mind that his aunt and uncle would find it easier to just not tell the newcomers about their "estranged" nephew and leave it at that. But if they did, Harry would never get to meet them, which he was anxious to do.  
  
He noticed they had a daughter, who appeared to be about fifteen or sixteen. She had olive colored skin, long hair that seemed almost black, and dark brown eyes. She was obviously of a different nationality, although Harry couldn't put his finger on it. Looking at the other two new neighbors, he began to wonder if the girl was really their daughter, for the elders were both Caucasian and had blonde hair and blue eyes.  
  
"Well," said Harry aloud, "I guess there's only one thing to do now."  
  
And with that he walked to the back of the house and quietly went out the back door into the bright sunshine. It was a clear, hot July day, and Harry was glad he had a pair of shorts on rather than pants, especially since he was going to have to spy on the group across the street.  
  
Crouching low behind the hedges in front of the Dursley's house, Harry went right until he ran into the white picket fence dividing the Dursley's lawn and the Hewett's lawn. Quietly emerging from the foliage, he was glad to see that everyone across the street had their backs turned to him. Running as fast and quietly as he could, Harry ran across the street to the front of number three Privit Drive, the house next to the new family's. He soon immersed himself in the bushes and made his way over to number five, not making a sound.  
  
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TO THE REVIEWERS OF CHAPTER ONE:  
  
harryschic: Thanks for being the first to review this fic! I hope it turns out like the others too!  
  
IluvRupertG: You don't have to wait for another chapter anymore do you? :) 


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